


under my umbrella

by chasingjupiter



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Intoxication, Light Angst, M/M, skldjfnjs im so bad at tags, will add more as it goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:33:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingjupiter/pseuds/chasingjupiter
Summary: The rain is languid and the air is warm, and it feels like Jihoon can feel steam rising from the pavement as he walks on.“What is it with you and the rain?” A voice calls out, and he swivels around to catch sight of matted blue hair rounding the corner.“The sky is crying because I have to see you again,” Jihoon responds, resuming his walking, but slightly faster.





	1. Chapter 1

Jihoon looks up towards the sky and squints, raising his hand to keep his eyes safe from the raindrops hurtling towards him. The people around him are fleeing, sneakers scattering puddle water around their feet, and they hastily put on their hoods or open up umbrellas.

Jihoon is content to let the rain pour on his skin, let his hair turn dark and damp from the water, let his sweater collect raindrops the way he collects memories. It gives him a little satisfaction to see the campus empty of students, watch his classmates hurry away to huddle in dorms. He steps around a puddle - he may like the rain but he doesn’t like soggy feet - and leisurely walks to his usual bench by a tree whose limbs are fragile and delicate, but growing slowly and surely.

It’s nice to see the streets so empty. It gives Jihoon peace of mind, and he craves the utter tranquil the rain grants him. It’s the sky saying hello, a watery embrace. Jihoon is thankful for the rain.

He’s startled by a pair of feet jumping right into the puddle in front of him, the owner holding up a clear umbrella, smiling down at Jihoon with surprising brightness.

“Hi!” the boy says loudly, extending the umbrella to Jihoon, who grimaces and slides over on the bench to avoid being covered. “Who knew it was going to rain, huh?”

“Anyone with a decent internet connection,” Jihoon mumbles, trying not to meet eyes with the boy, because he’s having a good time being alone and this blue haired boy is spoiling it all.

“Well, I didn’t,” he shrugs, sitting down next to Jihoon and holding out the umbrella again like a peace offering. “You want the umbrella?”

“No,” Jihoon says flatly, scooting over further. The boy follows him and shifts, grinning all the while like a human Cheshire Cat. It’s a little creepy, a little strange, and, Jihoon admits privately, a little endearing. “What’s your deal? Go home.”

“Maybe this is my home and you’re intruding,” he answers, continuing to scoot closer as Jihoon scrambles away.

This boy is possibly the most aggravating person he’s met all semester, and Jihoon has made a lot of shitty acquaintances. It’s something about the way he keeps smiling at Jihoon with those bright eyes of his that curl at the corners. something about the way his hair is obnoxiously blue, like he’d lost a bet. Something about the way he just keeps talking like it’s a game, where he anticipates his moves and pushes and pulls the conversation. He is all too cheerful and too lively and too much for Jihoon, who just wants to be alone with the rain.

And yet, this boy never seems to take the hint that Jihoon is not remotely interested in friendship, and he keeps getting closer, and Jihoon wonders what he’ll do when he hits the end of the bench. Probably run away.

He doesn’t even notice that the rain is rapidly fading because of this annoying boy, and when he does, Jihoon bites down on his lip and straight up scowls at him. “The rain is over and you’ve ruined it all,” Jihoon complains.

The boy pauses in his tirade and looks laughably concerned. Jihoon feels a little amused by this boy and his too-expressive face, but he’s still mostly annoyed. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly for once. “For bothering you. I’ll leave, then.”

Jihoon should feel relieved. He should feel glad that he’s finally taken the goddamn hint and that he’s going to leave and never show up again. Instead, he feels a sinking sense of… disappointment.

“Well, good riddance,” he finds himself saying, and the boy lights up again.

“Normally people say goodbye, but that works too!” he responds, and promptly skips away, smile returned with the sun.

Jihoon sighs, turns, sighs again.

He’s left his dumb clear umbrella on the bench.

 

-

 

The next day in the literature class Jihoon is being forced to take, he catches sight of a ridiculous blue mop of hair sitting in the back. He doesn’t know how he’s never noticed, but it’s probably because he tries to ignore all of his classmates.

When class is over, an hour of mind-numbing analysis, Jihoon stops in front of the boy’s desk and raps on his snoring head.

He jerks up and blinks in confusion, eyes registering Jihoon and sparkling. “It’s the rain boy!” he exclaims, beaming at Jihoon with excruciating friendliness.

“It’s not the rain boy,” Jihoon says, eyes boring into the other’s. “You left your umbrella on the bench. It’s in my dorm.”

“Is this your way of inviting me up to your room?” he suggests hopefully jokingly, smile painfully wide. Jihoon wonders if his cheeks always hurt from smiling like this, if he smiles at everyone like this, because it’s painful to watch him stretch out his pink lips, display his even white teeth. maybe he smiles because he wants to show off years of braces and teeth-whitening, Jihoon thinks, and it’s kind of funny, just a little.

“Uh, no,” he says quickly after thinking for too long, heart skipping a beat when he actually winks at him. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

“Do you want to get lunch with me?” he asks suddenly, not even deterred by his rejection.

Jihoon wants to say no. He really does. He wants to tell this smiling boy no and go back to his dorm and have some more ramen before heading to the studio, but his stupid mouth can’t form words now of all times, and when he finally gets out a word, it’s “yes.”

“Great!” he says, seeming a little surprised himself, and shoots up like a bullet. “Let’s go, now! I know this place a few minutes away.” He takes Jihoon’s hand with startling ease, and Jihoon feels his insides swoop with what he can only assume is hunger. The boy - he doesn’t even know his name, why are they going out for lunch together - races out of the building, talking all the while, words spilling out of his pink pink lips.

“What’s your name?” Jihoon asks suddenly, curiosity and need for a different name than “the cute blue haired boy” winning out.

He skids to a stop and laughs, loud and unapologetic. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize I didn’t give you my name,” he says in between giggles. “It’s Soonyoung. Kwon Soonyoung.”

Jihoon wonders why he’s so moved by this dumb blue haired boy who can never keep his mouth shut, whose name is Kwon Soonyoung, which is possibly the most ridiculous and most beautiful name he’s ever heard, and stares at him as he pulls him along.

He’s shaken from his thoughts when Soonyoung asks him what his name is in return, and he stutters out his own name with embarrassing forgetfulness. “It’s, um, Jihoon. Lee Jihoon?”

“Well, Lee Jihoon,” Soonyoung says with grandeur, puffing out his chest. “You will be impressed to know that I am taking you to the cutest cafe in all of Korea.”

“Impress me,” Jihoon replies doubtfully. “Words mean nothing.”

“I’ll make you believe,” Soonyoung says, eyes serious and dark and yet twinkling lightheartedly at Jihoon. “I can promise you that.”

Believe what?

 

-

 

The cafe lives up to Soonyoung’s boasting. It’s quaint and small, but Jihoon’s first impression of it is that it looks like someone pulled it straight out of a fairytale.

The ivy clinging to the walls reminds him of the garden he used to spend time in. His memories of it are fond, but he probably won’t get another opportunity to visit it again. He’d found it on a trip back to his childhood home, but he’s heard that people have moved into it now.

He wonders how Soonyoung knows that this is the perfect place.

The inside is as cozy as the outside, but warmer. The plants that fill the building are of different types and in bright pots, and it’s all so cheerful and home-y that it reminds him of Soonyoung, in a way.

The person at the counter recognizes Soonyoung and waves, calling out. “Already bringing boys here, Soonyoung? It’s a bit soon, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung laughs and walks up to him, at ease with the stranger. Jihoon stays by the door.

“It’s not too soon, no,” he argues. “You’ve known me for weeks!”

“And that means you can bring your dates to my cafe? No, sir!”

Jihoon can tell they’re both joking, but he notices that Soonyoung hasn’t denied anything yet with painstaking clarity. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Seokmin, get off my back for once, you don’t even own the place!” Soonyoung protests, flailing his arms.

Seokmin tilts his head back and laughs, just as loud as Soonyoung’s laugh, but a little sharper. “Yeah, but I work here, and no one else is here… so it’s my place for now.”

Jihoon feels like slipping out of the door. He’s getting the sense of intruding on what is a very… close relationship, and he’s never been good in groups. Or with people in general.

He’s just about to open his mouth to announce his departure when Seokmin takes notice of his fidgeting. “Hey, pretty boy, what’s your name?”

“Jihoon,” he answers, twisting his shoe on the wooden floor.

Soonyoung makes his way through the tables towards him, catches his hand and pulls him to the counter. “Seokmin, this is Jihoon. Jihoon, this is Seokmin.” he says straightforwardly. “Be friends.”

Seokmin holds out his hand and smiles, wide and unapologetic like Soonyoung. He can tell why they’re friends.

Jihoon shakes Seokmin’s hand and mumbles a greeting; he’s not sure exactly what he’s saying himself, probably something dumb. Seokmin laughs so it’s either going well or he’s done something stupid. It’s most likely the latter.

 

A few hours of chatting (Jihoon listening and cupping his cappuccino as Seokmin and Soonyoung banter) leaves Jihoon drained of energy. He’s always been better at being alone, spending days at a time in the studio, working. He finds it difficult to keep up with the conversation, to make witty remarks at the right time, to keep it interesting so the other doesn’t get bored. It’s why he prefers to stay by himself. The only person he can annoy is himself.

Soonyoung and Seokmin seem to be enjoying themselves with him, but Jihoon can tell when he’s getting to be kind of a damper, so he excuses himself for the night and leaves a few bills on the table for Seokmin to collect when he’s done with Soonyoung. He has a feeling it won’t be for awhile.

Jihoon declines the offer of going out to drink and trudges home, longing for a nap and maybe a good hour of work. He finds it easy to lose himself in his work, whether it be a paper to write or his own personal adventures in music production. Either way, he knows how to settle into the familiar rhythm of letting his fingers fly on the keyboard, taking a sip of water, blinking a few times at the bright screen. Toppling into bed at two am after a productive session. Sleeping soundly until his alarm screeches into his ear and makes him fall off the bed.

It’s a good routine. Jihoon is pleased with how he functions. He doesn’t need any distractions when he’s at the most critical stage of his career yet.

And he doesn’t get any distractions. He doesn’t see Soonyoung anywhere out of class. The blue hair is a sight he misses, deep down, but he knows it’s for the best. He doesn’t think of Soonyoung during the day. He locks himself into the studio and writes and writes and writes until he’s passed out at the laptop, fingertips red from typing for hours on end.

When he manages to get himself to his bed, he lets his mind wander to him for the few moments before he falls asleep. It’s a relief to sink into the bliss of unconsciousness.

 

-

 

Jihoon doesn’t think of Soonyoung at night anymore.

It’s been weeks since he last made eye contact with him, and Jihoon isn’t in the mood for starting it up again. He’s having a hard enough time managing his friends already.

Seungkwan is loud and touchy and emotional, and while Jihoon likes being around his boisterous self, it gets to be a little… much. And Vernon, Seungkwan’s boyfriend, is thoughtful and a little mysterious. A puzzle that Jihoon is fond of, but probably not possible to solve.

Wonwoo is a probably the easiest to be around. He’s quiet, like Jihoon, but he likes to make a sarcastic comment every so often. He has a good sense of humor, the same dry jokes as Jihoon. They work well together, and he finds himself looking forward to their get-togethers at the library, where they work in silence for hours on end.

“I heard it’s going to thunder tonight,” Wonwoo says, looking up from his book, an uncharacteristic conversation starter. Weather. Really, how desperate must he have been to start with weather?

“That’s great,” Jihoon replies absently, still staring at his laptop screen.

Wonwoo huffs out a sigh. “Are you going to stay in the library tonight?” He’s impatient today. He must have had another drunk rendezvous with Mingyu.

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon responds. “Who do you think i am?”

He shakes his head and carefully bookmarks his page, standing up, wincing at the screech of the chair against the floor. “I’m going out,” he announces. “Do you want to come?”

“Not particularly,” Jihoon says lightly. Of course he’d like to go out and get hammered, maybe wake up with skin against skin. He hasn’t done that in ages. However, college calls, and Jihoon is determined to finish this paper today. No matter how long he has to stay in the library.

Wonwoo shrugs, picks up his bag. “Your choice,” he says. This is what Jihoon likes about Wonwoo. He’s not pushy. He doesn’t grab your hand and drag you wherever he wants. He doesn’t introduce you to random people you don’t have any wish to be introduced to. He’s simple. He doesn’t make you feel confusing things. It’s easy to be with Wonwoo.

“Have a good night,” Jihoon says as Wonwoo leaves. He’s probably going to get drunk up his ass and get fucked tonight if he has any say in it. Wonwoo is a simple literature major who loses his glasses often and genuinely enjoys silence, but he’s also surprisingly kinky. Jihoon hasn’t asked for any details.

When Wonwoo leaves, shutting the door solidly and yelping at how cold it is outside, Jihoon lets out a deep breath. It smells good in here, like aged paper and ancient ink. The scent of knowledge hidden in the corners of bookshelves. Air that is easy to breathe for Jihoon.

He plugs his earbuds back in and hums quietly along to the song that’s playing. He’d never admit it to Wonwoo, but he’s listening to the bubbly girl group kpop that some of his friends aren’t particularly fond of. He’s versatile in his music preferences, but there’s something about the persistent synth and high-pitched voices that makes him play it on repeat. But Wonwoo doesn’t need to know that, just like Jihoon doesn’t need to know about his bedroom preferences.

He bets Soonyoung would want to know. Ask him what he’s listening to, because he’s nosy like that. Maybe he’d lean across the desk and try to sneak a peek at his screen. It’s the kind of thing Soonyoung would do.

He would laugh loudly and Jihoon would shush him because they’re in a library, for God’s sake, have some decency. And Soonyoung would laugh even louder, clutch his stomach, tell him that he likes Twice too. And maybe they’d bond over that.

Jihoon must be going insane from staring at his screen all day. It’s the only reasonable explanation for why he’s fantasizing about Soonyoung teasing him about his music taste.

The clock ticks with excruciating speed, and before he knows it, it’s two am, and he has just finished his paper. It’s not perfect, but he can’t be bothered to look it over at this hour, so he packs up his stuff and gets the hell out of the building he’s been stuck in for half a day.

When he steps outside, he jumps at the sudden tap on his head, and then he laughs at himself for getting startled by what Wonwoo has warned him about already. It’s raining again, to his delight.

He takes his time as he walks toward his dorm. The rain is languid and the air is warm, and it feels like Jihoon can feel steam rising from the pavement as he walks on.

“What is it with you and the rain?” A voice calls out, and Jihoon swivels around to catch sight of matted blue hair rounding the corner.

“The sky is crying because I have to see you again,” Jihoon responds, resuming his walking, but slightly faster.

Soonyoung is taller than him. He has long, muscled legs that Jihoon will not deny observing. So he walks faster than him. It doesn’t explain how he’s caught up to Jihoon already, hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t run away,” Soonyoung says, and the “again” is clearly audible even though he ends his sentence there. Jihoon shakes his head and walks as fast as one can while someone is gripping your shoulders and whispering in your ear.

“I’m not,” Jihoon says, and walks faster.

“You are,” Soonyoung argues, slurring heavily by his side. “Why don’t you want to talk to me?”

Jihoon stops in his tracks, trying to think of ways to get out of this situation. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the part of him aching to go out with Soonyoung, to suggest a bar he knows, to take shots in tandem and maybe dance against each other, taste sweat and vodka and the bitter bite of regret. There’s always a thrill in intoxication, even if it comes with its cons. Jihoon knows firsthand.

“I’m busy,” he says instead. He can tell even drunk Soonyoung doesn’t believe him, and hell, he wouldn’t believe himself either. He’s a shit liar and an even worse friend, but Soonyoung can probably tell both of those.

He leans over Jihoon’s shoulder, presses his lips to his ear. Jihoon’s back is up against Soonyoung’s chest, and the position is painfully intimate in the gentle rain.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” He breathes, and Jihoon can feel the warmth spread from his cheeks to all the way down, and the familiar smell of alcohol drifts to his nose.

Soonyoung clings to him the way raindrops cling to his hair, slippery and relentless. Jihoon chews on his lip, wanting to turn around and read Soonyoung’s face, to see his eyes narrow in a signature smile, to watch Soonyoung make an utter fool of himself.

But he’s not an asshole. He’s mean, sure. He’s a shitty friend. He doesn’t know how to start or when to stop. But he’s not a complete asshole.

So he takes Soonyoung’s hand and half-drags him to his dorm, plops him down in front of the toilet and helps him get over the worst part of getting drunk.

 

When Soonyoung settles into Jihoon’s bed like it’s his own, Jihoon doesn’t argue.

When Soonyoung turns over and wraps his arms around him, Jihoon doesn’t argue.

When Soonyoung pushes his nose to the base of his neck, Jihoon doesn’t argue.

 

They fall asleep like that, pushed up against each other, breathing slow and heavy and soft.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon ignores what he already knows.

When Jihoon wakes up to the empty left side of the bed, he feels his stomach sink a little in disappointment.

He wonders why he feels so disappointed when it’s what he expects as he blinks the sleepiness away from his eyes, lashes clumped together.

He wonders if Soonyoung remembers anything from last night. If he remembers that Jihoon pushes his bangs to the side and helped him hunch over the toilet. If he remembers anything he said. Anything he did.

 

_ “Soonyoung,” he said, stroking his back. “Do you get piss drunk like this often?” He’d meant to try to make him focus on something, to maybe help him think about something more pleasant, however little it mattered. _

_ “Only when i’m pining,” Soonyoung mumbled, making Jihoon stiffen in surprise. He hadn’t exactly expected a coherent answer from someone so out of it, but Soonyoung was always full of surprises. _

_ He was still full of surprises when he flung himself at the bed, bunching up the blankets and pulling them over himself. Jihoon had given him clean clothes, but they were obviously too small, and he resisted the urge to tug down the shirt that was riding up Soonyoung’s stomach. _

_ “I’ll be on the floor,” Jihoon told Soonyoung, pulling a blanket onto the floor with him. _

_ Soonyoung bristled and protested weakly, “No, it’s your bed, come here.” _

_ Jihoon shook his head. “It’s okay, it’s also my floor.” _

_ “Come here,” Soonyoung said again, voice whiny and rough. _

_ Jihoon didn’t know what it was about Soonyoung that made him crawl up to the mattress and curl under the sheets, but he had an inkling that it was the look in Soonyoung’s eyes, hazy but determined, ready to pull him up if that was what it took. _

_ When Soonyoung’s breathing evened out and his arm made its way to Jihoon’s side, he could feel something inside himself melting. There was something about Soonyoung’s parted lips in the dark that made Jihoon flush, something about how peaceful his rising and falling chest was that made Jihoon want to rest his head on it. _

So this is what it takes for you to have feelings,  _ Jihoon thought.  _ A cute boy in your bed.

_ No. It wasn’t just a cute boy in his bed. It’s Kwon Soonyoung in his bed, looking up at Jihoon trustingly, Kwon Soonyoung with the dazzling smile, the persistent flirting, the obnoxious blue hair.  _

_ Kwon Soonyoung. _

_ Who will probably not remember any of this in the morning. _

 

Jihoon makes himself cereal with sleepy eyes and plaid pajama pants, and nearly misses the bowl when pouring milk. He diligently avoids the mirror and looks over his paper once more before he has to turn it in later today. It’s startlingly normal for a morning that should be anything but.

He checks his phone quickly, scrolls through messages that people have sent him and he never bothered to reply, and stares at an unknown number.

 

Unknown Number:  _ hey, it’s mingyu. is wonwoo with you? _

Me:  _ no _

Mingyu:  _ oop, sorry! thanks :) _

 

Jihoon briefly considers telling Mingyu that he’s probably regretting his decision to drink with Junhui, who happens to have absolutely no sense of self-preservation. But he remembers that Wonwoo keeps to himself in matters like these and instead swipes out of the conversation, not because he doesn’t feel like replying, but because he simply doesn’t know what to say. (And he doesn’t feel like replying.)

Jihoon scans the rest of his messages. As he surveys the numerous muted group chats, he realizes that he doesn’t have Soonyoung’s number saved.

He’s not sure why it strikes him as odd when he can’t be bothered to reply to his friends’ messages, but he’s suddenly aware of the cold lingering on his neck and the thought that if Soonyoung texted him, he would probably respond.

He sets his phone face-down on the counter and shakes his head as if he can shake off the tightness in the back of his throat. His laptop is still on the counter from having carelessly tossed it there last night, so he opens it and peers at the window open.

The paper isn’t great. He doesn’t know what was in his mind to make him write this level of shit, but he does know that the professor will let him off this one time. His usual standards of work have made the professor fond of him, and he’s intending to milk it for what it’s worth.

It’s not that he’s bad at analyzing literature. He takes pride in how hard he works to keep it at a high level, and it shows in what he turns in. It’s just that recently he hasn’t been able to concentrate the way he should, just that recently he’s been struggling to pull words from the air, that all he can do is  _ feel,  _ and the professor isn’t going to grade his fucking feelings.

Maybe that was the plan all along. Take Lee Jihoon down from the top of the class, usurp his position as teacher’s fucking pet. He wonders how someone can have such a substantial impact on another, how someone can steal the words from under your tongue with a simple caress. It’s unfair. Kwon Soonyoung… cute boy, blue haired mess, conniving little shit.

(Jihoon knows he’s being unfair, too, but another thing he’s good at is ignoring things he knows.)

 

-

 

The next time he runs into Soonyoung is an unfortunate two days later.

He’s done a good job of religiously avoiding the elder, but clearly it’s not good enough, because Soonyoung is standing in front of him with lips pulled back into a smile.

“Jihoonie! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

“It’s been two days,” Jihoon mutters. “Christ.”

Soonyoung smiles even wider. “So you’ve been counting?”

“No!”

It’s easy to be drawn into Soonyoung’s warm questions and stories, and soon enough Jihoon finds himself enjoying the relaxed bickering, swatting at Soonyoung’s arm snaking around his shoulders. It’s alarming that his walls can be put down so quickly when he’s with Soonyoung. And scary.

“Come shopping with me,” Soonyoung suggests suddenly, and his voice seems almost nervous by the way it’s hesitant and soft.

Jihoon is taken aback. “Sorry, what?”

“Nevermind, it’s okay,” he says abruptly, shaking his head more aggressively than needed. “Uh, just needed to run some errands.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jihoon says, unsure of where his courage is coming from, but not regretting it (yet). He doesn’t want to see Soonyoung with eyes downcast the way they are now, a mixture of disappointment and defeat. It’s unnatural, he thinks defensively. A sad Soonyoung means a sad world.

“Really?” He brightens immediately and even as Jihoon nods slowly, it feels like everything has righted itself. A smiling Soonyoung is good.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jihoon says, looking away. It kind of hurts to look at Soonyoung now, teeth blinding and smile wide, and even though he just admitted that Soonyoung’s smile is pure and a blessing, he still can’t bear to look at it.

As they walk side by side on the narrow sidewalk, bumping into each other to avoid the mud and dirty puddles, Jihoon feels a sense of something missing.

It has something to do with Soonyoung and the way his fingers are itchy and hot and maybe he knows what it is and he’s (still) ignoring it.

He’s not sure if he can handle admitting it to himself.

 

-

 

It’s an hour later of poring over cereal boxes priced mere cents apart and Jihoon is almost offended (though not surprised) that Soonyoung prefers Lucky Charms over Cheerios. He can practically see it; Soonyoung peering into a bowl of Lucky Charms with endearing concentration, picking out the marshmallows and popping them into his mouth all at once. Mouth stuffed and cheeks bulging with the rainbow marshmallows and still somehow beaming childishly, proud of his accomplishment.

Jihoon jumps when Soonyoung waves his hand in front of his face, heat rushing to his cheeks. Did he really just daydream about Soonyoung eating cereal?

“Aaaaand he’s back,” Soonyoung announces brightly. “Was worried I lost you there for a second.”

“Unfortunately,” he mutters, tugging on his hoodie.

He takes a look at the shopping cart and grimaces. It’s like Soonyoung lives on sugar and artificial sweeteners. It does explain a lot, though.

He wonders who the hell lives with him and puts up with him. Maybe someone quiet to counter Soonyoung’s noisy tendencies. Or maybe someone equally  _ out of their fucking mind _ .

That reminds him. He doesn’t know anything about Soonyoung. He knows the dumb little things, like how he just  _ needs  _ sugary cereal in the morning to somewhat wake him up, or how he likes to dye his hair different colors because every so often life just gets boring. He knows about Soonyoung’s drinking habits and how quickly his facial expression can change and how usually that means he’s hiding something. Jihoon just isn’t sure about  _ what  _ he’s hiding.

Jihoon knows a lot of things about Soonyoung, but none of it is what he’s aching to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and shitty (is that the negative version of short n sweet?) but,, it's been sitting around for way too long to not be published  
> the next chapter will take longer because i have. nothing written for it yet. and i am getting busy so rip writing  
> hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> woo here we go on a multi chaptered journey  
> its supposed to be cute and soft but im a hoe for angst so who knows  
> also if there are any grammatical mistakes let me know!


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